Chapter 14

14

Madeline

We arrive in Louisville just after eight p.m. I made Ethan stop for cloud animals again, as well as souvenir collecting, snack gathering, and multiple bathroom breaks. Not to mention the shopping trip and photoshoot.

He didn't complain once.

We talked about fun stuff: our favorite movies (I had to admit I haven't watched a movie in three years; he was horrified and vowed to rectify this sometime this week); our hobbies (again, Ethan was horrified to learn I don't have any hobbies, while I enjoyed learning of his love for highlining, which I'd never heard of, motocross, tennis, golf, and beach volleyball); and our favorite music, which, of course, I had a lot to say about. I vowed to introduce Ethan to more country music this week and had to agree to watch Misery with him in exchange for him listening to country music. We added eight more songs to our road trip playlist, which has mostly songs from the eighties and nineties on it so far. Ethan also talked about a friend he has in Louisville, a guy who owns a bar there, and we decided to drop in and visit him after dinner.

We find a hotel and get one room again. We didn't even ask if there were two rooms next to each other available. I like that Ethan seems able to read me and that he's picked up that I don't want to be alone.

There's a new tension between us since we discussed our kiss. And since he photographed me. That photoshoot was unlike any I've ever been a part of. Having Ethan take my photo was an experience. He knows how to peel a person's layers away. It was like having a conversation about myself that had no words. One in which he got to see the vulnerable parts I try to hide.

"What are you thinking you might want for dinner?" he asks once we're in our room. "I know some great restaurants. It just depends what you like to eat." He tells me about some restaurants he's enjoyed here that I might like to try.

"I love a good steak, so maybe the steakhouse." A text comes in for me as I say this and I check it because I've been going back and forth with Leigh all day trying to make a decision about the new PR team I'll hire and I'm waiting on some information from her.

Leigh: Okay, so you may want to sit down for this.

I'm instantly on high alert.

Me: What is it?

Leigh: Are you sitting?

Me: Leigh, just tell me already.

She forwards me an Instagram link that I immediately click.

@thetea_gasp

Girlfriend, the news that broke today about our girl @madelinemontana and her ex @tuckerbrandt was so unexpected. And to be honest, we're not sure we wanna be a part of circulating it some more, but we know you're always looking to us for the tea updates so here we are. Just know, we won't tolerate any drama on this post and will delete anything nasty. Maddie had an abortion two years ago. This has been confirmed by Tucker in a post he just made in response to the gossip, and we quote him here: "It's true that Madeline had an abortion before our last tour. What you don't know are the circumstances under which she made that choice, so please respect her privacy and right to choose, and leave her in peace." You can read his entire statement on his Insta, but for real, we're torn over his post. Sure, he's come out in support of her, but was she okay with him posting this before she's had a chance to make her own statement? We're concerned the Tucker stans are gonna come after her even more now. And how about this thought: Maddie's been thrown to the wolves and we're wondering why Tucker isn't being clear about his part in all this. I mean, this is the guy who has talked a lot about the era of equality for the sexes, about men standing beside their women rather than in front of them. Where was the bit in his statement asking his fans to respect HIS right to choose? We've got TFW something just doesn't add up.

I sit on my bed and stare at my phone for what feels like forever. My heart beats so fast and all the way up in my throat that I'm unsure how oxygen is even entering my lungs. I don't think it is. I think Tucker has just thrown me under all the buses in the world and I'm almost dead.

Leigh: Maddie? Are you there?

I try to suck air in but it's a fight.

This is bad.

Really, really bad.

Because the sad fact about the music industry is it's filled with misogyny and even in this day and age, my abortion won't go down well. Tucker lied every time he said this is the era of equality. I was never the woman standing next to him; I was the woman standing about ten men back from him.

Me: Yes.

My fingers shake as I tap out my text, and not just from fear, but also from my rising anger over what Tucker's done.

Leigh: What do you want to do? Should I draft a statement for you to check over?

Me: I don't know. I need to think.

Leigh: Okay. Let me know.

Leigh: And Maddie? I'm so fucking sorry this has happened.

My attention is drawn from my phone when my bed dips under Ethan's weight as he sits next to me. I glance up to find him studying me with concern.

"What is it?" he asks and despite the turmoil raging inside me, I'm acutely aware of everything about him—the nearness of his body, the way his gaze feels like a touch on my skin, the solid wall of his chest that feels like a comfort. His genuine desire to know what's upset me.

I take a deep breath, willing my voice to steady when it wants to shake, and hand him a piece of my soul. "I had an abortion two years ago," I whisper, the words sounding like ash. "No one knew. But it's on social media now. Tucker has commented...he made it sound like it was my choice."

His eyes search mine. "But it wasn't your choice."

I like that he didn't phrase that as a question. "He made it clear I had to get rid of the baby. And not just if I wanted a career. And he left me to do that on my own." I squeeze my eyes closed as all the memories of that time in my life flood my mind. Ethan remains silent, giving me the space I need to think. When I finally open my eyes again there are tears in them. "I made the choice ultimately. I own that choice. It was what I thought I wanted, but damn, the choices women have to make at times...We're damned if we do and damned if we don't." I gulp down some oxygen. "My choice haunts me."

"Why?"

"Call me romantic, idealistic, but I want what my parents had. I want a deep love that would say ‘fuck it all' to outside forces when stuff like this happens." I wipe my tears from my cheeks. "And yes, I know that's unrealistic, because hard stuff happens in life all the time that we can't say that to, but it's what I wish everyone could have. And if that's what I'd had with Tucker, maybe we would have chosen differently."

Ethan's gaze is unwavering. "I don't think it's unreasonable to want a man to stand by your side and choose you over everything else even when hard stuff's happening all around you." His jaw clenches. "And it's sure as shit not unreasonable to expect the man who says he loves you to accept joint responsibility for making a baby with you."

If I could stay in this moment for the rest of this night, I would. There's something about Ethan that makes me feel protected, and right now I just want to feel sheltered from the world. But that's not possible, and I have to figure out how to handle this.

Ethan's phone rings while I'm thinking about this, and he grimaces when he sees the caller ID. He doesn't answer the call though.

"You should call them back," I say after the phone goes quiet.

"I don't want to leave you like this."

"I'm okay. And besides, I have to call Leigh and put together a plan to mitigate this." When he doesn't appear convinced, I add, "Honestly, I'll be okay while you make your call." I smile. "I promise to let you worry over me for the rest of the night."

He looks torn over this, but when his phone rings again, he curses softly, stands, and answers the call while exiting the room.

I exhale a shaky breath once I'm alone. The silence and four walls are suffocating. Or maybe that's my anger that feels like it's crushing my insides.

How fucking dare Tucker do this to me?

And now I have to be the one to explain myself to the world?

I push up off the bed, my movements jerky, my fury increasing. I could scream and throw things. I want to scream and throw things. But all the years of pushing myself down, of containing myself, of swallowing my thoughts, feelings, desires, my everything, make it so I'm unable to do either of those things. Instead, I switch into business mode and send Leigh a text.

Me: Can you please draft me that statement?

Leigh: I've already drafted it.

She sends through a statement. It confirms the abortion and asks for privacy in the same manner that Tucker's post did. The only truth it reveals is the fact I ended a pregnancy. It shows none of my heart or real truth, and after I read it a few times, I contemplate whether I want to share it. Whether I want to continue the fa?ade I've been a part of for years.

This is a crossroads I never expected to reach, and I'm again presented with a choice that feels like damned if I do, damned if I don't. That thought drives me in search of the minibar and what it may offer. I don't tend to resort to alcohol to cope with life, but tonight it feels like a great option.

I down the vodka first. Then, the gin. They burn all the way down. I'm in the middle of the gin burn when Leigh texts again.

Leigh: Holy fuck, Madeline, if I end up in prison tonight for hurting someone because they hurt you, you must bail me out. Social media has lost its mind.

Me: I promise to bail you out, but don't tell me why. There's only so much booze in this hotel room and I suspect it won't be enough if you do.

She calls and I put her on speakerphone. "You're drinking?"

I eye the whiskey in the fridge as my veins begin to warm from the vodka and gin. "I am."

"Oh, god. Tell me Hottie McHottie is with you to stop you from drinking too much."

I reach for the tiny whiskey bottle while silently agreeing with her description. He really is a Hottie McHottie. "Why do they make these bottles so small?"

"Have you ever binged alcohol in a hotel room while mad and sad?"

"Never."

"Send me your exact location. Right now."

I laugh. "Why have we never talked like this? I like it."

"Ah, because you were my boss."

"I'm still your boss."

"Yeah, well, things are different now. There isn't time to fuck around with niceties when I'm worried you're about to wipe yourself out, destination unknown, and potentially no Hottie McHottie in sight to save your ass. Where is he?"

I down the whiskey, scrunching my face up at the way it burns. Way worse than the other two. "Whoa. Whiskey is nasty."

"Oh, Jesus. Please tell me the name of the hotel."

I rattle the name off and discard the whiskey bottle. "Hottie McHottie is outside taking a call. He'll be back soon. You can stop fretting."

"Are we posting that statement I drafted?"

"Yes. No. I don't think so." I spin at the sound of the door and watch Ethan walk back in.

"That's a decidedly unclear direction. Do you care to clarify?"

It really is. And I really can't clarify it right now. Not when I can't untangle the thoughts and feelings twisting up my insides, turning my anger into something sharp and cold and dangerous. Part of me wants to stay silent, let Tucker's lie stand because that's what I've always done—played the good girl. But the other part, the part that's fueled by cheap booze and years of burying everything I feel wants to burn it all down.

"Madeline?" Leigh presses.

I don't know what to do.

My life is a wreck, and I don't know what to do.

I bring my hand to my temple and rub it. "Hottie McHottie is back, so I have to go now. I'm hoping he'll take me out for a drink, at which point I will clarify for you."

Ethan watches me like he's assessing me.

"Right," Leigh says. "I'm taking that as a no for now. Please tell Hottie McHottie that you need to be cut off after two drinks."

Ethan listens in thanks to the speakerphone, his eyes very firmly glued to mine. "I'll cut her off," he says to Leigh. "You can rest assured."

"Thank God one of you can be trusted tonight," Leigh says. "I'm ending this call now. Please don't forget to text me your final decision about this statement."

With that, she's gone, and I'm left alone with the man who really should change his name to Mr. McHottie.

His gaze shifts to the empty alcohol bottles. "You got started without me, Miller."

"I had to. I need the booze to help me figure out what I want to say about Tucker's statement."

"Is it helping yet?"

"No, but it's making me feel good on the inside and that's a damn good start."

"And you still wanna go out?"

I know what he's really asking. Do I want to go out in public after what's happened? "Yes. And I might not even wear my wig."

The beginning of a smile settles across his face. "You're feeling frisky, huh?"

"I don't know what I'm feeling. Except mad. Really fucking mad."

"What's your gut telling you to do about that?"

"I never know what my gut's telling me."

"Yeah, you do. What's the first thing that came to mind when I asked you about it?"

I cock my head. "Is the first thing that comes to mind really my gut talking because I'm pretty sure if I did the first thing, I'd have no career tomorrow."

He takes a moment to answer, figuring out his reply, and I really like that he doesn't ever just offer easy answers or platitudes. That he respects me enough to sit with the complexity of a problem and help me find my way through. "Trust me, I get self-doubt. I've dedicated enough of my life to entertaining it. And at times, I've let it run the show." He pauses, his gaze intensifying, telling me that what he's about to say next is important. "None of those times ended well."

His words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken consequences. And while I wonder all the ways it didn't end well for him, I know he's right because I'm in the mess I'm in because I've given into my doubt over the years.

He taps his head. "It'll keep you stuck here rather than here," he shifts his hand to his heart. "And here is where you want to lead from. Your head can play catch up and figure it all out later."

When I don't say anything, he encourages me. "Say it, Maddie. You don't have to do it, but just say the words out loud and see how they feel."

My throat squeezes and my heart pounds even just thinking these thoughts. "I want to tell the world who Tucker really is. No, scratch that. I just want to tell the world who I am. Who I really am. But sharing that truth involves him and that feels scary."

"Invite the chaos in, Miller. Nothing changes without it."

"I don't know if I'm ready for everything to change," I whisper, struggling to push the words past the lump in my throat.

"There's no rush. You can take your time with this."

He has no idea about my world. "I don't have that kind of freedom, Ethan. I need to make a statement, and soon."

"Who made that rule?"

"The world. My fans won't still be there if I don't get on top of this. I've given myself three days off, and now it really is time to get back to work."

"I think you're letting fear make the rules." His phone rings again and he gives me a regretful look. "Sorry, this is time sensitive."

While he's on the phone, I find a dress to wear to dinner and go into the bathroom to change. I spend ten minutes fixing my hair and makeup while thinking about everything Ethan said.

I want to share my truth. I really do. But I don't know if I'm strong enough to do that and face the consequences. I'm in the middle of those thoughts when a memory from my childhood comes to me. A memory of my mother making a hard decision a year after my father died.

We were dirt poor, living in a tiny trailer, and she was struggling to put food on the table after using hers and Dad's life savings to get us through that first year without him. She was offered a job that paid well. Too well. She seemed conflicted over that. I'd overheard a phone call she'd had with the man offering her the job and she'd told him there was no way she'd ever do what he'd asked her to do. Not even for the kind of money he was trying to throw at her. She'd told him she had more integrity than that.

I don't know what the job was. All I know is that my mother then went on to work two jobs to feed us. Times were often hard, and she was exhausted, but she kept a roof over our heads, clothes on our backs, and food on our table, all without compromising her values or betraying herself. She refused to let go of who she was, even when it would have been easier to do so.

Somewhere along the way, I've forgotten that I always wanted to be like my mother. Ethan's right: I've let fear rule my choices.

I may not be ready for everything in my life to change, but I can't go on not being true to myself. I reach for my phone and open Instagram, and with shaky hands I invite chaos in by posting the photo Ethan took of me today and speaking from my heart.

@madelinemontana

When you discover that the man you were going to marry has been cheating on you for the entirety of your relationship, you bet your ass you leave that relationship. And then, after he fails to stand up like a real man and own half the responsibility for making a baby and choosing not to have it, you bet your ass you get loud and start telling your truth. And to all the women out there who have stayed silent for too long, who have had to make damned-if-you-do-damned-if-you-don't choices, who have let someone push them down, I invite you to join me #getfuckingloud

I tap the words out faster than I've ever written any post and hit share. I don't second-guess myself and I don't hesitate. I'm fucking angry and I'm done with being controlled and manipulated.